


Incendio

by theincendio



Category: A Very Potter Musical Series - Team StarKid, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling, Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery (Video Game), LEGO Harry Potter (Video Games)
Genre: Good Draco Malfoy, POV Draco Malfoy, Pining Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:08:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27386188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theincendio/pseuds/theincendio
Summary: There is a new girl at Hogwarts, and she seems to make an enemy out of Draco Malfoy.Fourth Year to Seventh Year~Slow Burn~
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Other(s), Harry Potter/Other(s)





	1. 1. The Thunderbird

The Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry stood high and proud on its hill. Though well into the night, the children could still make out the castle within the moonlight; almost every window was illuminated with candles. The Hogwarts Express chugged along the tracks, steam blowing eagerly into the air, as each student finished changing into their school robes. 

An unfamiliar face sat alone in her compartment, staring at the foreign school. She hastily cleaned her robe, picking at a mixture of blonde hair and white fur from her pet. The fourth-year books she purchased at Diagon Alley were kept neatly in her suitcase, next to the wand she received back in the United States. 

As the train came to a stop, every student aboard stood to leave, except one. Wrapped in her head, the new student kept her eyes on the castle, her pale hands having drifted to an irritated hangnail. The sound of laughter snapped her back to reality, and as she looked at the door, a young student walked by. He turned to share a joke with his two friends, catching the eye of the girl in the lonely compartment.

He furrowed his eyebrows at the stranger, and his eyes only left hers when the stubby boy behind him pushed him farther down the hallway. 

The girl opened the compartment door with one swift pull. Her pet Jarvey followed closely behind.

“How different from Ilvermorny,” Her Jarvey, Tibert, explained, climbing up from the back of her leg and nestling on her shoulder. His bushy tail stretched across her neck.

“Yeah…” She replied. “Speaking of different, you’re supposed to be in your cage.”

“What the f-“

“Don’t,” She cut him off sternly.

“I’m not going in there, no way. Like some wild animal? Absolutely not.” 

“You have to,” The girl explained. “It’s Hogwarts rules.”

“No way,” Tibert whined. 

“Tibert,” She demanded, reaching up to grab him.

“No!” The Jarvey yelled, and with a great leap off her shoulders, took off down the hallway.

“Great,” She mumbled to herself. With a sigh, the girl took the cage off the farther seat and prepared to chase him down the hall.

Before she even stepped into the hallway, a terrified yell accelerated towards her. Tibert raced down the hall, leaping onto the cage. A bright orange tabby quickly followed, bounding down the hallway while being chased by a panicked girl. 

“Put me in the cage,” He pleaded, “Put me in the cage, put me in the cage!” 

The cat circled around the girl, his eyes glaring at the Jarvey. The girl slipped her hand under Tibert’s stomach and helped him into the cage. She placed it back inside her compartment, and found herself facing another student.

“Oh, no! I’m so sorry.” A young girl with a head full of bushy, brunette hair bent down, scooping the cat into her arms. She took a double take at the girl. “Are you new here? I don't think I've seen you before. And you don't have a tie. I’m Hermione.” She smiled holding her hand out. 

“Oh, my name is-“ 

“You’re American?” Hermione wondered. “Are you a transfer student? You’re obviously not a first-year... You must be from Ilvermorny! I’ve read all about it.”

“That bloody cat,” Said a ginger boy from behind her. “I’ll tell you, I-“

The boy stopped in his tracks, ardently staring at the new girl. He noticed she wasn’t wearing a tie, and breathed a sigh of relief when it was evident she wasn’t eleven. “Hi, I’m Harry, and this is-... I mean, I’m Herm, uhm... I’m Ron, and this is Harry.” The ginger boy’s face became redder than his hair as he introduced himself and the boy emerging behind him.

The girl squinted her eyes at the student named Harry. 

She smiled skeptically. “I’m-”

“All students off the train! Firs’ years, right this way!”

“Come on!” Hermione pressed, cradling her cat in her arms. She took off down the hall without another word, and Ron rolled his eyes, following without question. Harry gave the stranger a small smile, and pushed the glasses further up his nose, before catching up to his friends.

Near the end of the platform stood an abnormally tall man, who instructed the newcomers to follow him. He led the children to the castle, using boats to get across the lake and to the main door. Once inside, they were left to their own devices, and the small group trudged up a few flights of stairs.

Among the huddled crowd stood the new girl about five inches above the tallest first year. The children were whispering to each other, the sound of a hundred buzzing bees filling the small corridor. The girl was suddenly aware of how alone she felt. In her old school, she at least had a few kids she was comfortable with, but the others tried to stay as far away from her as possible. No matter how many times she tried to prove herself, she couldn’t seem to change their minds. She wondered if these first-years felt the same way, if they felt unneeded or unwanted, like they had nowhere else to go.

An old woman appeared almost as if from nowhere, holding a long piece of parchment.

“Hello, everyone,” The witch greeted, her pointed hat sagging toward the left. “In just a moment, we’ll be making our way into the Great Hall for your sorting. There’s nothing to be worried about,” She reassured, as if it would help the trembling first years.

A young boy in front of the stranger turned to look up at her. “You’re not a first year,” He pointed out in a whisper.

“I know.” She muttered.

His eyes widened. “You’re American!”

The girl nodded.

“Did you have houses in your old school?” The young one asked.

The girl nodded, again. “I was in Thunderbird.”

The boy was blown away. “Thunderbird.” He repeated as if it were the most amazing word he had ever spoken. “I wish we had cool names like that.”

“Alright, everyone,” The old witch drew everyone’s attention back to her. “Let’s begin.”

With that, the giant doors to the Great Hall swung open, revealing a marvelous room. The ceiling seemed never to end, charmed to look like the night sky. About 200 candles floated throughout the air, illuminating the numerous students that sat below. The group of first years moved into the room following the old witch, the new girl trailing behind. She stood out like a sore thumb in the sea of eleven-year-olds.

Throughout the hall, she spotted Hermione, who gave her another apologetic smile. The girl shrugged it off. Across the four tables, each student wore a different color, with the color yellow adorned furthest to her left, blue, then red, and lastly, green. At the end of the stretch was a stool, hosting an old, tattered hat.

“That has to be the tallest first year I’ve ever seen,” Fred Weasley joked at the Gryffindor table.

“Maybe she’s part giant,” George chimed in.

“She’s not a first-year, she’s new!” Hermione declared in a hushed voice.

“They’ve been expecting her all summer,” Erica explained. “Gran said it’s important business, but she wouldn’t tell me what.”

“Bet she’s the daughter of You-Know-Who,” Fred teased, wiggling his fingers in an attempt to scare the younger kids.

“R-really?” Ron asked, glancing at the stranger.

“She’s from America,” Harry said, “She’s not Voldemort’s daughter.” He reassured Ron.

“Nobody would make a kid with the git anyways,” Ginny joked.

“Did you say she’s from America?” Draco turned, inserting himself. “Worse than Mudbloods, I think,” He snapped, glaring at Hermione.

“Piss off, Malfoy,” Ron said, defending Hermione and the new stranger.

“Shame you’re wasting your pure blood on your girlfriend, Weasley,” Malfoy teased. Crabbe and Goyle laughed.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Ron mumbled.

“Then again, the Weasley name isn’t a bloodline that needs to continue.” Draco jeered.

“Malfoy, I’d watch your mouth,” Harry finally jumped in. “Unless you want the whole school to know about your little incident with Hermione last year.”

Draco pursed his lips, taking Harry’s warning and turning back around.

“I wonder…” Ginny tried to change the subject. “Why do you think she got transferred here?”

“Who knows?” Fred shrugged.

“I bet five sickles I know why, and I also bet you ten sickles I know who she is.” George challenged his brother.

“You’re on.”

Professor McGonagall raised her hand to silence the students. “Welcome to Hogwarts!” She greeted. “We will begin by sorting our transfer, and then move on to our first years.” 

The girl felt everyone’s eyes lock on her.

“So, without further ado,” McGonagall took a deep breath, looking as though she would have to force the words out. “Grindelwald, Maureen.”

The room fell erupted with noise, each student chattering and whispering about their guest.

“No way,” Hermione said.

“She’s a Grindelwald,” Ron said, terrified.

“Who?” Harry said.

Fred sighed, hesitantly slapping the 15 sickles in George’s proud hand. 

“Looks like we get the American,” Draco beamed, his attitude changing as he leaned back toward the Gryffindor table. 

“Do you think she’ll be a Slytherin?” Ginny asked.

“I couldn’t see her being anywhere else, especially with that family name.” Hermione said. 

“What’s the problem?” Harry tried again, but the table talked over him.

“Damn, I kinda wanted her to be with us. She’s cute,” Fred grumbled.

Maureen walked up to the hat, not giving a second thought to the buzzing students. She confidently sat in the chair, watching over all the eager faces that were curious to see what house she would be placed in. 

The hat was placed on her head, and it seemed to move without any help. “Hmm…” It drew out, a low voice ringing in her head. “A Grindelwald. I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting one. And you were a Thunderbird… Good choice from Ilvermorny. I presume you expect to be placed in Slytherin.” 

Maureen listened.

“You are cunning. I can see your thirst for power, but not the same kind as your grandfather. You like authority. You’re a leader, not a follower,” The hat proclaimed.

I’m nothing like him. Maureen thought.

“That’s certain,” The hat agreed. “You are kind and loyal, but Hufflepuff is not the place for you. Your bravery exceeds all your traits. That’s right, yes... A leader...”

Maureen sat patiently as the hat grew silent, as if it were thinking.

“I’ve got it!” The hat said at once. “Better be… GRYFFINDOR!”

The hall was eerily silent. The Gryffindor’s shared confused looks, each questioning whether they should be afraid or proud. Hagrid broke the unsteady silence by clapping, everyone abruptly copied, the applause echoing through the hall. 

“Welcome, Maureen. My house will take good care of you. You can go ahead and sit with the other fourth years. My granddaughter, Erica, is right there.” McGonagall said pointing at Erica, who raised her hand to wave.

“Thank you.” Maureen said meekly.

Maureen shifted off the stool and found herself walking back down the same aisle she came in from. McGonagall caught Dumbledore's eye, but he only nodded, glancing swiftly at the young girl. 

On her way, she noticed the boy who stopped before her compartment, sitting at the table of green ties. He looked her up and down, as if studying her, before sticking his nose up and turning away. Maureen rolled her eyes.

She was soon next to Erica, who introduced herself immediately. “Hi, I’m Erica Barrette. Welcome to Gryffindor!”

“Thanks!” Maureen greeted happily, sliding onto the bench.

“This is Harry Potter,” George pointed him out. “Don’t try to kill him, he’s already got enough enemies.”

“Ugh,” Hermione scoffed to Maureen’s right. “That’s George and Fred Weasley, Ron’s older brothers.” She motioned to the twins, who gave the same two fingered salute.

“I’m sorry to ask,” Harry leaned forward. “But what does Grindelwald mean?”

“Harry, I swear, sometimes we can’t take you anywhere,” Fred teased.

“Gellert Grindelwald was one of the most darkest wizards of all time!” Hermione informed him. “No offense,” She turned to Maureen.

“No, it’s okay. I know who he is.” Maureen nodded. She glanced back at the hat, who had already begun to sort other students.

Hermione continued. “You-Know-Who used some of his techniques! He was expelled from a school called Durmstrang for torturing other students, and-” Hermione paused, looking to the teacher’s table. She lowered her voice. “He killed Dumbledore’s sister.”

“Actually, it was presumed that he did,” Maureen differed. “Nobody knows what really happened.”

“Nobody except Dumbledore,” George reminded them.

“So, he’s like the Voldemort of Dumbledore’s time?” Harry asked.

Hermione sighed. “Sort of, but not really. I think he was worse than You-Know-Who. He was very powerful. He told his followers he was fighting for-”

“Truth, love,” Maureen interfered. “And freedom.”

Hermione nodded, her eyebrows turning upwards. “The greater good.” She finished, sitting back.

“Right,” Maureen blinked. “Well, he’s in Nurmengard now. There to rot for the rest of his life.”

The group of Gryffindor’s sat in silence, unaware of what to say or do. Suddenly, the hat bellowed, and the little boy Maureen had met at the entrance of the Great Hall was sorted into Gryffindor. The table erupted with applause, welcoming the new member to the end of the table. He waved at Maureen before he was seated.

“Gryffindor’s the best house, obviously,” Ron tried to strike up a conversation. “You should try-out for the Quidditch team. Fred, George, Harry, and Erica are on it!”

Erica beamed proudly, sharing a smile with the boys on her team.

“That’s cool! I never played Quidditch but my old school loved it,” Maureen announced.

“We’re gonna win the Quidditch cup this year, I just know it!” Ron declared. “No way Malfoy’s taking this from us.”  
The sorting had finished, and Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, had gotten to his feet. He was smiling around at the students, his arms opened wide in welcome.  
“I have only two words to say to you,” he told them, his deep voice echoing around the Hall. “Dig in.”  
The empty dishes filled magically before their eyes. The students grabbed their portion, filling their plates to the max.  
“Malfoy? What’s that?” Maureen questioned, grabbing a warm roll.

“Not a what, a who,” Hermione corrected.

“A terrible who with that.” Ron groaned.

“He’s that boy right there,” Hermione stated, pointing at Draco Malfoy over Maureen’s shoulder.

Maureen turned around. “The boy shoving cake down his face?” She asked.

“No, no, that’s Crabbe. The blonde-

“With the pointed nose,” Ron added.

-is Draco Malfoy,” Hermione said.

“Oh,” Was all Maureen said. She turned her back further, almost fully facing the Slytherin table. The boy named Crabbe soon caught her staring, and motioned to Draco, who quickly whipped his head around.

“Can I help you?” Malfoy spat. “Ah… Grindelwald… I think you’re sitting at the wrong table. In fact, there’s a seat right here.” Draco patted his lap.

“C’mon, Malfoy, we wouldn’t want that rash between your legs to spread,” Harry scowled.

“What rash?” Malfoy sneered.

“Your pick.” Erica raised her wand.

“Alright, Grindelwald? Already have Saint Potter and his little sidekicks sticking up for you?” Malfoy rolled his eyes.

“I can handle my own, thank you very much. And if you keep talking to me, I’ll make sure I handle you too,” Maureen said bitterly. She didn’t even bother to see Malfoy’s reaction, and turned back to her plate. The Gryffindor table laughed, mocking Malfoy.

Draco lingered, and unable to think of anything else to say, gave Harry one last sneer before returning to his plate.

“Were you really going to let her sit on your lap?” Pansy asked cautiously.

“Are you kidding?” Draco glowered. “I’d never let one of Potter’s friends near me.”

“So!” said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. “Now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty- seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch’s office, if anybody would like to check it.”

The corners of Dumbledore’s mouth twitched. He continued, “As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students.”

Harry and Ron shared a sly look, the Invisibility Cloak tucked snugly in Harry’s chest just upstairs.

“It is also...” Dumbledore continued. “My painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year.”

“What?” Harry gasped. He looked around his fellow members of the Quidditch team. Ron looked horrified.

They were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore, apparently too appalled to speak. Dumbledore went on, “This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers’ time and energy — but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts —”

But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open.

In the doorway, a tall, stout man stood. He had a face unlike the students had ever seen, having been scarred and mutilated by excursions during his job. He used his long staff to help him walk down the hallway, and as he approached, Ron pointed out his glass eye to his friends. “Lost it to a death eater,” He explained. 

Maureen watched with discomfort as the eye seemed to move of its own accord, rolling up and down and looking frantically around the room. When Moody had reached her section, the glass eye stopped, focusing directly on her. Soon after, it moved to Harry, and before either Gryffindor could point it out, it had moved on. 

“Allow me to introduce your defense against the Dark Arts teacher for the year,” Dumbledore announced proudly as the strange man approached. “Professor Moody.”

The students were too afraid to gossip, each with their eyes glued to the ex-Auror. The man slowly walked to the center of the teacher’s table, using his staff with every step. Once he was there, he let out a loud cough before sitting next to Dumbledore’s seat.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we are to have the honor of hosting an inspiring event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year.”

“You’re JOKING!” said Fred Weasley loudly.

The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody’s arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively.

“I am not joking, Mr. Weasley,” he said.

“The delegations from the competing schools, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!”

Dumbledore sat down again and turned to talk to Mad-Eye Moody. There was a great scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the entrance hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for checking this book out! It's going to involve a lot of characters so get ready for a retelling of the story through a new character's eyes!


	2. 2. Champions and Counselors

At Ilvermorny, Maureen’s favorite class had not been potions. It never really came easy to her, and she found even with her Professor’s help, she barely passed the class. However, as she made her way to the dungeon, her hopes were high. Potions with Professor Snape was the first class on her schedule - now if only the schedule had come with a map.

The castle had to be the most confusing thing Maureen had ever dealt with, between the moving stairs and the many hidden corridors. Everytime she turned to retrace her steps, she seemed to be in a different hallway. At last, seven minutes ahead of the start of class, Maureen entered the Potions room.

A tall man at the front of the class immediately stopped speaking when the door opened, letting Maureen take her time walking in. He watched her in silence, peering over his abnormally large nose.

“You’re late.” The man said, tediously.

“I’m so sorry, I-”

“I expect better from a Grindelwald,” Snape jeered, drawing out every word. “I suppose, you are a Gryffindor.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Maureen challenged, becoming aware of the red and gold tie she wore proudly around her neck. She heard a few gasps from the students behind her.

“Silence!” Snape raised his voice in an attempt to overpower her. “Take your seat. There, in the back.” He eyed the only seat open.

Maureen turned, and had to physically hold in her groan; the only seat left open just happened to be next to Draco Malfoy. 

She reluctantly made her way to the back of the class, plopping in her seat.

Maureen found Erica among the students’ stares, and gave her a pleading look only to be met with her friend mouthing the word: Sorry.

“Back in America do they not have clocks?” Draco whispered. “Maybe Potter should hold your-”

Maureen cut him off by sticking a single finger in between his lips and her ear. “What did I say?” She reminded him of their previous conversation.

“Excuse me?!” Draco snapped, a little too loudly for Snape’s liking.

“Malfoy,” Snape warned. Draco’s back straightened. “As I was saying, I don’t tolerate tardiness.” Snape’s eyes fell on Maureen, his black eyes piercing through her soul. She could almost feel Malfoy’s cunning grin.

Potions drone on as Snape’s lecture almost drew the class into a consecutive snore. Malfoy refused to speak to Maureen for the rest of the class for the sake of his own pride.

Erica was lucky to be seated next to Hermione during Potions, as the witch took pleasure in doing all the work. 

“You know what comes with the Triwizard Tournament, don’t you?” Erica asked her.

“Fear? Pain? The impending sense that one of our fellow students could die?” Hermione pondered.

“God, Hermione,” Erica laughed it off. “The Yule Ball! A school dance!”

“Right…”

“What?” Erica asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Nobody is going to ask me, Erica,” Hermione admitted. 

“You’re joking, right?”

Both girls paused as Snape made his way across the table. Hermione handed Erica a bowl, and Erica proceeded to dump it in, hoping it was believable enough for Snape. He passed by, and the girls continued.

“Hermione, of course someone will ask you,” Erica pressed.

Hermione glanced over her shoulder at the boys behind her.

Erica looked past her at Harry, who stared confusedly at the textbook and the lecture they were on. “That’s it! We can take Ron and Harry to the ball!”

“Okay, now you’re joking,” Hermione rolled her eyes. “Harry’s like my brother.”

“And Ron?” Erica tried.

Hermione pressed her lips together. “Only if he asks me.”

“Well, that’s not fair, you know he won’t.”

“What if he asks the new girl? Maureen?” Hermione wondered out loud.

Erica stole another glance back at the transfer, who seemed completely occupied with keeping Draco out of her field of vision. “I think she’s got her hands tied.” Erica breathed a laugh.  
\--------

After a long day of classes, Maureen gave The Fat Lady the dormitory password. The painting opened and Maureen attempted to step right through if not for the student stepping out.

“Hi there,” Maureen greeted. 

It was the young first year from the Great Hall. “Hi! I can’t believe I talked to a Grindelwald and Harry Potter on the same day!” He exclaimed.

“What’s your name?”

“Theo Sprague.”

“I think Gryffindor’s going to be good for us, Theo,” Maureen said proudly.

Theo held the tie at his throat, smiling broadly at his new friend. “I think so too! Bye! I have to go to potions!”

“Oh, go all the way down to the dungeons. It’s easy to get lost so ask for help!”

“Thanks!” Theo said, moving past her and beginning his descent.

Before Maureen got the chance to set another foot in the common room, Tibert came running down the hallway, jumping into her arms.

“The cats up here are ferocious!” The Jarvey whined.

“I thought I left you on my bed,” Maureen looked down at him, one eyebrow raised.

“I couldn’t stay in that boring room,” Tibert lifted his nose in the air.

“Then you’ll have to make friends with the cats,” Maureen declared.

“Maureen!’ Erica called once she spotted her. “Come here!”

Maureen hesitantly made her way to the couch, sitting next to Erica who was talking to Hermione, Ron, and Harry.

“What is that thing?” Ron asked, staring wildly at Tibert.

“This is Tibert,” She introduced.

“I know what that is, that's a Jarvey!” Hermione cried. “You had it on the train. Those aren’t allowed here!”

“Hermione, come on,” Ron rolled her eyes. “What Dumbledore doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” He turned to Maureen. “Does he talk?”

Maureen nodded. “And my parents charmed him to say full sentences. He’s not that rude… In fact, he’s quite smart.”

Tibert didn’t say anything, but he walked around Maureen’s lap, settling himself in the nook between her legs.

“How was your first day?” Erica asked once she was settled.

“Stressful, but not too bad.” Maureen admitted. “Snape’s a character, huh?” 

“He’s something,” Harry agreed.

“Something foul,” Ron added.

Maureen crossed her legs. “I dunno, I think I can get on his good side. Hopefully. If not that class will be living hell. Especially since I have to sit next to, what’s his name again. Draco Melloy?”

“Malfoy?” Hermione corrected.

“Yes, him. God, he really gets on my nerves!”

“You’re talking about the last three years of my life,” Harry said.

“He only hates you because he’s jealous of you,” Erica told him.

“Jealous? Of what?” Harry scoffed.

“Well…” Erica’s eyes widened. She looked at Hermione for help, but Hermione shrugged. “Your… You…. You’re the chosen one!” She said, feeling her face grow hot.

“Maybe he’s jealous of your extremely good looks,” Ron teased.

“Exactly!” Erica agreed, a little too spritely.

“The chosen one?” Maureen asked sincerely.

“Wait, what?” Erica turned her whole body to face Maureen. “You don’t know who he is?”

“Uhm, am I supposed too?”

“He defeated Voldemort before he was two!” Erica proclaimed.

“Voldemort...?” Maureen wondered.

“That sounds like some kind of fungus,” Tibert said. Ron stared at the Jarvey, astounded.

Harry sighed with a bit of relief. For once someone did not know who he was. It felt like a breath of fresh air, for Harry realized that there was more to the Wizarding World than him just being the hero of an old children’s story.

“You don’t know who that is?” Ron exclaimed.

“I’m afraid not,” Maureen said meekly.

“Okay, Harry here...” Ron said grabbing Harry’s shoulder, “was sought after by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.”

“Voldemort?” Maureen asked, confirming.

Hermione and Ron shushed her immediately. Maureen put up her hands in defense.

“Vollymore,” Ron mumbled, “tried to kill him and his parents when he was just a baby. But-”

“But I didn’t die, Voldemort did, except he didn’t, and then I defeated him again two years ago, hopefully for the last time, blah blah blah, now I’ll forever have this scar.” Harry moved his hair off his forehead, revealing the lightning bolt shaped scar above his right eye.

“Oh, wow. So basically you saved everyone.” Maureen said in response. 

“Yeah, he did, and if it weren’t for him then we would all be goners,” Erica added, looking brightly at Harry.

“Except for me. Because I’m Pureblood. And he only wanted to kill muggle-borns and muggles,” Ron admitted.

“Ronald!” Hermione scolded. 

“Jus’ saying”. 

“Well, then, I’d be alive too,” Maureen joked along. “But yeah, that’s cool! You saved a lot of these wizards and witches before you could even talk.”

Harry sat there awkwardly. The Gryffindors continued to talk and got to know the new student a lot better. She told them stories about her life back at Ilvermorny and they told her about their countless adventures at Hogwarts. By the time the young wizards and witches said goodnight, the fire in the fireplace had burned out. 

\--------- 

“Hey,” Erica said as she sat next to Maureen, reaching over her to grab a piece of toast.

“Morning,” Maureen nodded, scribbling the last of her homework with her quill. 

“No one came down with you?” Erica asked.

Maureen shrugged, dipping her quill back into the ink.

“Can I see your class schedule?” Erica asked. Maureen slid a small piece of parchment across the table. Erica studied it for a moment. “We have a lot of classes together! Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms… Oh, you’re taking Divination? Don’t tell Hermione.”

“I already did. She seemed happy since I’m also taking Muggle Studies,” Maureen said without looking up.

“Right. Can you believe both times we have potions is first period?” Erica sighed.

“I don’t know how much longer I can handle Malfoy,” Maureen laughed to herself.

Erica compared the rest of her schedule to Maureen’s, noting how many classes they shared.

“Hey, I was wondering,” Maureen said, looking up. “Ron said Voldemort tried to kill Harry and his parents when he was a baby, but he wasn’t able to. Does that mean he didn’t get to his parents?” She asked softly.

Erica shook her head with a sorrowful expression. “Harry was the only survivor. He doesn’t like to brag about it, but he survived the killing curse. No person in history has been able to do that.”

“Right,” Maureen furrowed her eyebrows. “Does he, like, live at Hogwarts or something?”

“He lives with his wretched Aunt and Uncle in the muggle world.” Erica pressed her lips together. “But try not to bring it up. He loathes his past because he never had any say.”

Suddenly, Maureen was jolted forward with a push, her quill knocking over the bottle of ink she had. She and Erica immediately jumped up, and Maureen tried to salvage the remainder of her homework. The top half was covered in the spilt ink. “Excuse me?!” She turned to yell at the force behind her.

“Sorry,” Draco folded his arms. “Didn’t see you there,” He said arrogantly.

Maureen faked a laugh, her expression immediately shifting to a scowl as she turned around. “Great, now I need to start over.”

Erica blotted at the small ink stains she had on her sweater. “It’s Transfigurations? I can tell my Gran what happened, she can probably figure something out.”

“You would do that for me?” Maureen asked gratefully.

“Of course!” Erica exclaimed. “What are friends for?”

Maureen smiled at the thought of having made friends, of knowing people who didn’t care about her last name. Only a few days had passed, and Hogwarts had already started to feel somewhat like home. 

\--------

“Blimey,” Ron groaned, the next ingredient on the list for Draught of the Living Dead being live spiders.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked.

“Look.” Ron gagged, attempting not to throw up in his mouth. 

Harry chuckled. “I’ll do it, don’t worry.” Harry grabbed the jar of spiders and tipped it upside, letting three spiders fall in. 

Ron breathed a sigh of relief. He patted Harry twice on the shoulder, smiling at his friend. “I think I’ve dealt with enough spiders to last me a lifetime.”

The girls in the potions classed freaked over the fifth ingredient, each struggling to even touch the jar. From the back, Maureen groaned loudly as she realized the jar wasn’t even on her table.

“Hey, Einstein,” Maureen said sarcastically.

“Oh, you're talking to me now?” Draco grinned.

“Only because you forgot to get an ingredient.” Maureen sighed.

“Well…?” Draco wondered, annoyed.

“Well, go get it.” 

“Me? Go get it? I got the missing ingredient last time!”

“Yeah, the one you forgot. Again!”

“Well, it’s almost as though I don’t ca-”

“Rock, paper, scissors,” Maureen interrupted.

“Huh?”

Maureen quickly explained the rules to a confused Draco. “Whoever loses has to get it.”

After a moment, Draco raised his fist. “Fine.” He muttered.

Together, they quietly announced: “Rock, paper, scissors!”

“Ha! I win, of course,” Draco said, covering her fist with his hand, signifying paper beats rock.

“Beginner’s luck,” Maureen said sourly.

“Go on. Be a good girl,” Draco smirked.

Maureen scowled at him, snatching her hand away from his. She took her time getting the missing ingredient. 

“You’re a good listener, you know my family could use a new House-Elf,” Draco teased.

“And my grandfather could use a new practicing target,” Maureen snapped back. 

Draco stared, no words coming to mind as Maureen poured the last ingredient in the pot. 

Ron turned to see Snape far in the back, telling Neville that his potion was one of the worst he had ever seen, and continued his conversation with Harry.

“Oi,” He whispered. “You know there’s going to be a dance, yeah?”

“Yeah…” Harry responded, crossing ingredient 6 off his book.

“So…?” Ron tried.

“So…?” Harry repeated, confused.

“Who would you take?”

“If I had to ask, I was thinking about Cho Chang.” Harry shrugged. It was evident he didn’t really give it much thought.

“The Ravenclaw?”

“Yeah. She’s cute, I think.”

Ron peeked at Hermione and Erica, a few tables away. Hermione’s hair was beginning to frizz from the heat of the potion, and Erica’s hands were stained black. “You weren’t thinking… anyone else?” Ron tried again.

Harry looked at his best friend, trying to comprehend what he was implying. “Ron, I don’t really feel comfortable taking Ginny,” Harry tilted his head.

“No! Ew. No. I would never ask you to do that.” He made a face. “I was thinking more so…” Ron motioned with his head towards the two girls.

Harry followed his nudging and found Hermione, her hair three times it’s normal size. “Hermione...?”

“Ugh, look!” Ron said quickly. He nudged harder with his head in the same direction. Erica leaned forward from behind the bush that was Hermione’s hair, looking into the cauldron.

Harry turned back to Ron with a sour face. “Hermione’s like a sister to me.”

“No, you prat. Think about it. Hermione and Erica… they’re girls, right? We could both take one of them!”

“But that makes them feel like a back up plan, doesn’t it? If the time was right to ask Erica, I would,” Harry said, with more confidence than he had about asking her.

“Or Hermione,” Ron added, his face growing red.

“Right, or Hermione.”

“I don’t think you have any problem. Who would say no to Harry Potter?”

“Professor Snape would.”

“Not even he can resist the Potter charm.” 

An explosion caught the classroom’s attention. The dark cloud evaporated to show two stunned students at the back of the room, covered in soot. Malfoy wiped the ash from his face, angrily turning to Maureen to scold her, when Professor Snape appeared at the table.

“What the Devil is going on here?” Snape seethed.

“She-!”

“Draco! Why would you do that?” Maureen yelled before Draco could get a chance, turning to Snape. “Professor, I tried to tell him that dumping the whole jar of spiders in wasn’t a good idea.” She explained, shaking her head.

“I didn’t-”!

“Silence,” Snape glared at Draco, who shut his mouth immediately. “10 points from Slytherin, for your absurd attempt at improvising.”

“10?” Draco whined.

“And 5 points from Gryffindor, for your imcompent attempt at controlling your partner.” Snape’s emotionless expression forced Maureen to stay quiet and accept her fate. “Anyone who hasn’t let their partner blow up their project, or thinks their potion is significantly better than Mr. Longbottom’s may join me at the front for grading.” Snape said, leaving the pair behind with a flourish of his cloak.

Maureen let out a sigh. Draco smiled boastfully with a “Hm.” She rolled her eyes. 

Finally after what seemed like a century, Potions was over. Maureen quickly hurried over to Hermione and Erica’s desk where Harry and Ron had already made their way. 

“What even happened with your potion?” Hermione questioned.

“Yeah, that was a mess,” Erica joined in. 

“Oh, yeah, I poured the whole jar of spiders into the cauldron and blamed it on Draco,” Maureen giggled. 

“That’s brilliant!” Ron laughed.

“Malfoy looked pissed,” Harry stated.

“It cost us five points though,” Hermione butted in.

“Yeah, but it cost them ten!” Ron reminded her excitedly. 

As the students wormed their way out of the classroom, Professor Snape’s voice boomed. “Grindelwald. Malfoy. There seems to still be a catastrophe in the back of my classroom that I have no intention of handling. Shall we say, 20 more points? Or will this disaster be dealt with by the time I return?”

“Oh, yes. Of course, Professor,” Malfoy said sweetly.

“Right, sorry,” Maureen said apologetically. “I’ll catch up with you guys later, bye”

“Bye!” Ron, Harry, Erica, and Hermione said in unison. 

Draco sighed unreasonably loud. “Finally. I can breathe. That stench they carry with them is dreadful.” 

“What stench?”

“Orphan, poverty, and mudblood all in one. Makes me want to throw up, I tell you.”

“Draco, you are so dramatic.”

“Dramatic? You better watch yourself, or your time at Hogwarts will be very unpleasant. I’ll make sure of that.” Malfoy threatened. Maureen furrowed her eyebrows at him. Draco continued proudly, “You see, my father-.”

“Quite frankly, I don’t care about your father,” Maureen interrupted. “We have a desk to clean.”

“From the mess you made. It cost my house ten points.” 

“Good. Should serve as a reminder that you aren’t going to walk over me like you do the others,” Maureen said defensively. 

Malfoy rolled his eyes grabbing a rag and starting to clean the desk. Maureen followed. 

“This is servant stuff. Wait until my father hears about this.” 

\-----------

The schools of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang arrived on their respective terms, with the ladies and gentlemen from France adjourned in blue silk, whilst the others from the far north came wrapped in furs. Almost every member of the foreign schools had decided to put their names in the Goblet of Fire, hoping for the chance to be champion of their school. Though no one could tell who might be picked from Beauxbatons, the entirety of the three schools wished for Viktor Krum to be one of the champions.

At first, Ron was starstruck over the famous Quidditch player, but as Hermione’s annoyance of Krum’s presence in the library became overbearing, she seemed to be the only one oblivious as to why Krum was in there in the first place. Ron hung around Hermione more than usual, doing his best to convince her study anywhere else but the library.

Erica helped Maureen with her Transfiguration, and in return, Maureen helped her memorize a plethora of magical creatures. She learned Maureen’s favorite spots to get pizza in Manhattan, and Erica told her of the best candy held at Zonko’s. She confessed that she thought Harry was cute, and found Maureen enjoyed talking poorly about Malfoy more than she thought she did. The two grew closer as the weeks progressed, and Maureen began to deem Erica her best friend.

Though usually with the group of his friend, on most days, Harry found himself alone with Maureen. It felt good to talk to someone who didn’t know his entire life story. She saw him as a person, rather than ‘The Boy Who Lived’ or other such extremities. And they shared most of the same interests. They talked Quidditch for hours at a time, or emerged themselves in favorite movies, music, or comic books, all things muggle (or No-Maj, as apparently Americans called them). He was able to confide in her about the events that had happened the previous years: his stuttering professor with the Dark Lord on the back of his head, his self-absorbed professor who erased his own memory, or his amazing professor who turned out to be a werewolf.

“Seems like the Defense Against the Dark Arts position is cursed,” Maureen had pointed out.

“We all say that!” Harry laughed. “And get this: that teacher knew my father, who also knew my Godfather. And my Godfather is a convicted murderer, accused of selling out my parents to Voldemort when he hadn’t really done it at all! But he’s still on the run, so I haven’t seen him in months.”

“That’s insane. I wonder if Moody’s cursed now, too,” Maureen thought out loud.

“I think Moody might’ve scared the curse away,” Harry joked. 

September turned colder as the month progressed, and it wasn’t long before it was fall at Hogwarts. A plethora of seventeen year olds had put their name into the Goblet, until nobody could even place a bet on who would be in the tounrmanet. Maureen continued her attempt to get on Snape’s good side, making each potion to the best of her ability and staying a few minutes after class to ask questions. It didn’t help that she and Draco were a terrible pairing.

“Can you do anything right, Grindelwald?” Draco rolled his eyes.

“You should have known I picked the wrong berries!” She retorted. “Sorry I had to carry six jars by myself.”

“It’s on the label, you git,” Draco picked up the jar and shoved it in her face.

“Well, we can still save it!”

“Unfortunately,” Snape’s thick voice sneered. “It appears you have not reached your limit on idiotic choices for this potion lesson. You cannot save it. You have failed.”

Snape waved his wand and the potion seemed to drain from the bottom of the potion before disappearing.

On the brighter side of the month, Harry and Maureen, sharing all but one of their classes, continued to find themselves alone together, often walking back to the Gryffindor common room.

“But she had a time turner the whole time!” Harry explained. “So she was taking double classes!”

“I can’t even keep up with half of my classes.” Maureen laughed. “Nevermind double.” 

“The professors really know how to load on the work.”

“I guess so. Especially McGonagall.”

“She loves giving out essays,” Harry agreed. “Even to Erica, which is a surprise.”

“I like Erica a lot. I like all of you guys.” Maureen tugged at the bottom of her sweater. “I am really happy we became friends. I was so nervous no one was gonna like me because of... well, my grandfather.”

“If it makes you feel better, I still have no clue who he is.” Harry smiled at Seamus and Dean walking opposite to the pair. “But if there’s one thing I learned, it’s that family doesn’t define us. My uncle and aunt are terrible people, so I strive to be nothing like them.” 

“My father never really knew Grindelwald, I mean, he was put in jail when my father was four, but my uncle did. You can really see the difference of what eleven years with Grindelwald could do to a person.”

“Alright, so we both have terrible uncle’s!” Harry cheered over a not-so-happy situation.

“Wait, your uncle is practically an evil wizard, too? But Erica said he lived in the muggle world?”

“Oh, I didn’t know he was evil,” Harry said awkwardly. “My uncle only did things like send me to horrible schools or put my bedroom under the staircase.”

“What?” Maureen said, shocked. She couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of muggles. “Harry, that’s still terrible!”

“I think he would be an evil wizard, if he even cared to get off the couch anymore.”

As October rolled around, the student’s gathered in the Great Hall to start the Tri-Wizard tournament. Everyone ate their meals as quickly as possible, and when Dumbledore had decided they had finished, he made his way to the middle of the room.

“Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision,” said Dumbledore. “I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions’ names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber” — he indicated the door behind the staff table — “where they will be receiving their first instructions.

“After which, the Champions will be able to choose their counselors, to advise them on the games and help them with their clues. Now! I think we are ready to begin.”

The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red. Sparks began to fly from it. Then, a large flame shot into the air, followed by a charred piece of parchment that fluttered out of it — the whole room gasped.

Dumbledore caught the parchment and held it at arm’s length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames.

“The champion for Durmstrang,” he read, in a clear voice, “will be Viktor Krum.”

“No surprises there!” yelled Ron as a storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. Harry saw Viktor Krum rise from the Slytherin table and slouch up toward Dumbledore; he turned right, walked along the staff table, and disappeared through the door into the next chamber.

“Hoorah, Viktor!” boomed Karkaroff, quite loudly so that everyone could hear him over all the applause.

The clapping and chatting died down. The goblet once again, turned red, and a second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames.

“The champion for Beauxbatons,” said Dumbledore, “is Fleur Delacour!”

A tall, blonde girl rose gracefully to her feet and swept up between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.

When Fleur Delacour too had vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again. And the Goblet of Fire turned red once more, and from its brim came fire an another piece of paper Dumbledore caught mid-air.

“The Hogwarts champion,” he called, “is Cedric Diggory!”

Every single Hufflepuff had jumped to their feet, screaming and stamping, as Cedric made his way past them, grinning broadly, and headed off toward the chamber behind the teachers’ table.

“Excellent!” Dumbledore called happily. “Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real —”

But Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was apparent to everybody what had distracted him.

The fire in the goblet had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it was another piece of parchment Automatically, Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore. And then Dumbledore cleared his throat and read out —

“Harry Potter.”

“What?” Erica gasped.

Ron looked at Harry as if he had just exploited all of his secrets. His mouth gaped. 

Harry immediately sat down.

“HARRY POTTER?” Dumbledore’s voice boomed through the hall. There was no applause. The hall immediately sturred with noise, each student seemingly having something to say about the situation.

“Cheater!” Some of the Slytherin’s yelled. “That’s rubbish!”

“I didn’t put my name in.” Harry turned to his friends. “You know I didn’t.”

The group of them just stared back, with blank faces.

“Harry! Up here, if you please!” Dumbledore called.

Harry quickly got up and made his way to Dumbledore. The Headmaster whispered something to him, and pointed him in the direction that all the other Champions had gone.

When Harry had vanished, Dumbledore turned back to the crowd. “We will get this sorted out! For now, give our Champions all of your support! The tournament has officially begun!” And before any other teacher or student could ask a question, Dumbledore was gone.

“How did he do it?” Ron asked immediately. “Fred and George weren’t able to.”

“There’s no way he put his name in,” Erica declared. “He would never.”

“How did he do it?”

“Unless, someone put his name in,” Maureen guessed.

“But it makes no sense,” Hermione pointed out. “We already have our Hogwarts Champion.”

“I bet it was Grindelwald,” Draco Malfoy said from behind them, about six people down the bench. “She made an aging potion, or something.”

“Draco, you of all people should know my potion ability,” Maureen turned to face him. He met her gaze, rolling his eyes before turning back around.

“What is he going to do?” Erica said with a worried expression. “He can’t compete, can he? Hermione said that there’s a high percentage of death. They can’t let him compete!”

“Oh, please, Harry has almost died every year so far,” Fred chimed in.

“If anything, this is just another rock in his shoe,” George said.

“Harry’s not gonna die. Especially since he’ll have a great counselor,” Ron boasted. He suddenly sat up straighter, cocking an eyebrow.

“Unless, Harry chooses me.” George shrugged.

“Or Neville. I think he’d have a better chance with Neville,” Fred added.

“C’mon, who else would he choose?” Ron asked plainly.

“Attention everyone!” McGonagall announced over the podium. “Will the following people please follow me. Our Champions have chosen their counselors.”

“Is Potter competing?” Interrupted Justin Finch-Fletchey from the Hufflepuff table.

McGonagall sighed. “Yes, Potter will be competing.”

The room erupted again with chatter and yells, everyone voicing their own opinion.

“Excuse me!” McGonagall gained control of the room again. “For the Champion Fleur Delacour, Miss Chloe Devereaux. For the Champion Viktor Krum, Mr. Draco Malfoy.”

Maureen groaned as she looked over her shoulder, watching as the Slytherin’s patted Draco on the back. He stood, giving a triumphant smile to Maureen, before following the previous girl from Beauxbatons to the room where the Champions were sitting.

“For the Champion Cedric Diggory, Mr. Aidan Hallihan. And for the Champion Harry Potter, Miss Maureen Grindelwald.”


End file.
